


Operation "Sleeping Darkness"

by Rennll



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Artistic Liberties, Drifting with a Kaiju Brain, Farce, Gen, Heartless Biology, I'm Not Ashamed, No Villain-dignity is spared, The Author that is, This Is STUPID, Uncanon-Typical Shenanigans, Victim-of-the-Fic-Award goes to ... Riku Replica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-19 05:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennll/pseuds/Rennll
Summary: Before the final showdown between darkness and light, the Riku-replica, recent member of the true organization XIII, is given the simple task of waking up Ansem in time for a meeting.As the Reader can deduce from the length of this, he encounters some hurdles.Explicit warning of Ansem showing signs of affection, which is terrifying.





	Operation "Sleeping Darkness"

Organisation XIII’s errand boy, that had become his unofficial title.  
– Make sure Ansem doesn’t sleep past a meeting again, Riku said in an exaggerated impression of the old master Xehanort.  
Yes, Ansem over-sleeping. That was a thing.  
He stomped through the winding corridors of the castle where members of the organization took up residence. While strongholds used in the past had either been restored to the light like Hollow Bastion, or occupied by dark fairies like The Castle That Never Was, the forces of darkness would apparently be damned if they couldn’t have an base-of-operation with curtain-walls and one tower at minimum. By now it was tradition. To be fair, getting to sleep in a soft bed the night before heading out to slaughter-or-be-slaughtered felt nice, and Vexen would have been insufferable if they’d forced him to do lab-work slab in the middle of the wilderness.  
At this very moment Riku was passing the chilly scientist’s workshop, hearing whirring and clanging from inside and seeing yellow smoke creep out from beneath the doorframe. Not keen on finding out the cause, Riku wrapped his arms around himself against the dramatic drop in temperature that occurred in any place that Vexen spent a great deal of time in and rushed past. A dusk, on it’s way to the workshop with white mannequin-limbs cradled in it’s arms, made the mistake of sneaking across the ground in front of Riku and had the unfortunate honor of being kicked out of the way, it’s burden scattering across the ground with a resounding clattering as it zipped off in terror.  
Unfortunately, outside of Vexen and his assistants, Riku wouldn’t be able to vent frustrations on as many people as he would have liked. Most members were busy out in the field, carrying out the different facets of old master Xehanort’s plans, as well as the contingency-plans for those plans and failsafe-plans for the contingencies. Naturally, the plan-maker himself was never seen doing any of those tasks he delegated endlessly to others. The plan-maker could, infact, not even be bothered to take a ten-minute stroll to Ansem’s room, instead summoning him, who had been enjoying his rare day off: dozing in the sunlight on the rooftop and watching the clouds form animals that chased and devoured eachothers’ ankles. Rushing over, he’d expected to hear that the guardians of light had invaded before schedule.  
– See to it that Ansem is awake and ready within the hour, Xehanort had said.  
Riku shoot a ball of darkness at a vase of flower which took part in Marluxia’s grand scheme to gradually turn the interior of the castle into a botanic garden. It exploded beautifully into a geyser of dirt and rippling lily-petals.  
As he left the clattering shards of vase behind, Riku begun to sense Ansem’s darkness like jittering fingers tracing down his neck and across the soles of his feet, resonating with his own; and swore, because only when Ansem was sleeping did his power flow unchecked like waves from a waxing and waning ocean. One would think him the type to flaunt his might on a constant basis, though if this had been the case he would have darkened the sky wherever he went like other powerful members of his kin.  
The fact that Xehanort concern turned out to be well-placed did not make the situation feel less stupid.  
As he turned the last corner the darkness had grown strong to the point where it tasted bitter on his tongue. The sight of Ansem’s guardian-heartless greeted him, hovering like a demonic genie spawned from the world of Agrabah outside his bedchamber. A muscular being, pitch-black and with searingly empty spots-for-eyes, glowing in a yellow light.  
– Hello is Ansem available? Riku quipped the way one did to empty air.  
The … familiar? Since he’d never taken heartless-class he didn’t know the best term to describe the relationship and seemingly shared consciousness between Ansem and the guardian. Knowing Ansem though …  
The slave tilted it’s two-thirds-the-head-of-a-jester at him, it’s skeletal mouth twitching beneath the cross bandages wrapped around it’s head.  
– I’ve been sent to wake up Ansem, Riku continued and bowed forward to sneak beneath the guardian’s arm, stopping when said arm moved to obstruct him.  
Turning his head, Riku found that even with it’s face set in a permanent scowl he could tell when the guardian was angry for real.  
– I don’t plan on hurting him. The worst thing I’m going to do is nudge him …  
Growling.  
– … Very lightly. If I don’t do that Xehanort will end up disintegrating him … Xehanort that is, not me.  
His attempt to dodge around the guardian, ended with said guardian pushing him sprawling to the floor with one of it’s fryingpan-large hands.  
– Fine, Riku snarled, scrambling to his feet and cupped hands around his mouth.  
– Hey Ansem! Xehanort told me to make sure you won’t laze around, he shouted.  
No response. He tried expelling more force out of his lungs.  
– The meeting’s gonna start soon. Time to get up, the clock is already … He took a step back and peeked out a window, which gave a good view of the clocktower standing in the courtyard; pulling a face. … Four in the afternoon. Seriously Ansem, I don’t care if you’re a creature of darkness, people are supposed to sleep during the night.  
Not even a ripple in the calmly swirling darkness exuding from the room. Riku didn’t know what else to do but to keep shouting, time beginning to stretch out as he prodded, joined by the occasional, irritable snap as his patience dwindled. If the guardian hadn’t stood within earshot he would have begun threatening to strangle Ansem. After his voice went raspy Riku concluded that either the door let in less sound than a wall of cotton, or Ansem was only pretending to be asleep and enjoying the sounds of him ruining his voice. Honestly, the second possibility fit somebody like Xigbar better and not a practical and dry person like Ansem. Thus he simply didn’t shout loud enough.  
With his arms crossed he leaned against the opposite wall, facing the guardian in a staring-competition. Extending his arm he checked if the darkness in the area would allow him to open a dark corridor straight into Ansem’s chamber, sighing when not one shade responded. The Seeker of Darkness likely valued his privacy and had conditioned the shadows in his proximity to only heed him, like a cowed pack of dogs.  
– Guess I’m leaving, he told the grumbling guardian, holding up his hands in an advocate of surrender.  
– Definitely leaving, he continued, backing into the corridor. ... Look, I’m walking away.  
Three more steps. The guardian relaxed.  
– Though I’m gonna knock first, Riku called out, punching a ball of darkness from his fist.  
Zipping cricket-fast past the guardian, it burst against the door with a crack and an explosion of splinters leaving a gaping hole. The guardian stared at the damage, seeming to have trouble comprehending. Riku held his breath expecting a burst of dark energy or a shout of indignation to erupt from inside the chamber. When the seconds ticked by his mouth fell open and he gestured outward with a:  
– Really?  
Snapping it’s head around the guardian roared loud enough to make the window-panes rattle.  
– I’m leaving!  
Hightailing down the corridor, Riku could only be happy that a dark sphere four times the size of his own wasn’t thrown after him. Once at a safe distance he stopped and glanced out at the clocktower, grimacing at the sight of the minute and hour-hand progressing across the clock-face.  
– Stupid destroyer of worlds, too stuck up to pay attention to the mere morsels below him, even when one of them blows his door down, he muttered, a finger moving to tap his arm as he pondered what next step to take.  
Making his way past the guardian would be too hard without help – No, he corrected himself, handling this on his own was well within the margins of his abilities, though doing so did come with risk. Would he be delayed it would earn him punishment. The amount of glee the old master Xehanort had in conducting ways to discipline failures ensured that whatever awaited would be as many parts creative as dismayingly horrible. If he could not even get one of his own allies up from bed, Xehanort might reconsider choosing him as one of the seekers, flick a finger and turn him into dust.  
Picking the person that would assist him was a sensitive matter, and not because he or she needed to handle two meter tall heartless-muscle. A slew of people would find him laughable if he asked them for help, Xigbar and Larxene to name a few, and never stop mocking him about the event for an eternity afterwards. Worse still felt the idea of asking someone like Xemnas or Marluxia who had this air of superiority about them, demigods among commoners, too busy with their own importance to pay care about the maggots at their feet. One day Riku would be defying that presence; not the day he needed to admit to having trouble getting Ansem out of bed. In the end he could only think of one good pick and his mind formulated a plan.  
He was going to get the help of Xehanort.

Not the old Xehanort, he wasn’t crazy.  
Riku thanked his lucky star that the younger time-travelling version could be found relaxing in the lounge, reading a book carrying the title: “The role of gods of death and Santa Claus in the larger multiverse.” When his footsteps echoed through the room Xehanort glanced up at him with a disinterested look in the yellow-coloured eyes that the organization shared. On most members it gave them the gaze of a prowling tiger or a snake that smelled blood, and Xehanort did pull off the predator-look on occasion, as, like a cat, he only needed a mouse to toy with for the cruelness to shine through, though on most occasions the eyes looked like they belonged to a house-feline that had swallowed enough rodents to be content for a lifetime.That attitude was exactly what Riku wanted.  
While the young and the older Xehanort, put beside eachother and compared critically, wasn’t quite like night and day, the variances in their aloofness was an important difference. Both of them did not care as far as Riku could tell, though while the older did not care in the sense that he, if an enemy launched a bullet at him, would use an ally as a shield and kick the corpse to the side afterwards; the younger one treated most things as if he was having one of those controllable dreams where, no matter what he choose to do, it would have no impact once he woke up.  
If it had been him having that warped world-view, Riku suspected he would’ve rampaged regularly, exhilarated by the thought of never facing any repercussion, yet Xehanort acted more mellow than most others he knew. It did not seem like him to find meaning in spreading this awkward tale around for some temporary gratification, especially since it could demean him, dignity being one of the few things that Riku knew he treated seriously.  
– You want to make use of my time-stop ability to get past the guardian, Xehanort said.  
Riku had actually not gotten around to mentioning that part yet, though since that had been precisely his intention he nodded.  
– I would do it myself, but your abilities are more efficient.  
Humming, Xehanort placed a finger between the pages of the book, closing it as he leaned his head back in thought. Riku held his breath, hoping the response would not be to shoo him away.  
– That’s a good decision, you should not try to force your way through a creature such as the guardian, Xehanort finally replied, picked up a marker from the table beside him, poked it into his book and stood up, stretching.  
– I expected you to be a bit more skeptical, Riku admit.  
– About Ansem being a heavy sleeper? Might be natural behavior. Have you red the research-reports on heartless that a future Xehanort wrote?  
– No.  
– He kept heartless as test-subjects, and measured sleeping-patterns among other things. The record-holder remained asleep for three months.  
– Three months?  
– As beings formed out of dark-matter, heartless can theoretically sleep indefinitely. That won’t be a problem with Ansem since he has received a replica-body, though he might retain some old habits.  
Would that mean that this would not be the last time that he had to act as Ansem’s wake-up clock?  
Riku groaned.

A rumble like that from a towering stormcloud met them when the guardian spotted Riku and his reinforcement approaching, a clear warning telling them not to get close. Feeling inclined to obey Riku halted, while Xehanort continued, looking unconcerned even as the guardian’s glare narrowed and it roared like a pissed off grizzly. It raised a fist into the air to strike the intruder.  
– Time stop, Xehanort commanded.  
Before the knuckle punched his nose into his skull, time obeyed and froze it still. The creature hang paralyzed, more than paralyzed, in the middle of it’s bellowing attack, and Riku whistled approvingly. As Xehanort slipped past the guardian’s thick frame and ducked beneath the crumbling remains of the door, Riku leaned back against the wall with a smirk. One that disappeared when Xehanort re-emerged far too soon with pursed lips.  
– This will be harder than I thought, he said.  
– Why? Riku responded while Xehanort deposited himself next to him on the wall.  
– He has set up a dark barrier beyond the door. Not something I can break through while simultaneously stopping time.  
Frowning in the way he always did when things did not go smoothly, Xehanort closed his eyes. A static feeling in the air disappeared, one that Riku hadn’t noticed until it was gone. The guardian moved again, swinging it’s fist through the empty air then straightened, seemingly unbothered that the target it had wanted to hit was suddenly loafing around by the wall further back.  
– Someone who has a track-record of over-sleeping should not put this much effort into not being disturbed, Riku muttered, dragging his nails harshly down the scales of his suit in fierce desire to do the same to the sleeping heartless.  
For the second time that day he engaged the guardian in staring, wishing it the most cruel and humiliating death possible. The mouse should slay it in the upcoming war. That he wanted to see.  
– Is there any other way we can get to him? he asked Xehanort, who stood with slumped shoulders, showing the exhaustion that his power caused in a manner that he did not do in front of the other members.  
Riku had yet to decide between interpreting this as a flattering show of trust, or an insulting message that Xehanort saw him as less of a threat.  
– Yes, Xehanort replied with a confidence that made Riku feel his mood lighten. … While paranoid, Ansem is not acting properly so and there’s...  
Xehanort’s words died away the way it does when the speaker realises that he is saying something that he shouldn’t, and he sent the guardian the narrowed glare that, as a seasoned voyager of worlds, he often gave the local, eavesdropping dogs that looked suspiciously like they comprehended the human language.  
– Come, he said, taking Riku by the shoulder and urging him down the corridor.  
– There are ways inside that he has overlooked, I meant to say, he continued once out of earshot. … Though the smarter option would be fetching one of the adults with the capacity to contain the guardian and bring the barrier down without starting all-out battle. Someone like Xemnas, or my oldest-self.  
Riku turned towards him an expression that questioned his sense of self-preservation.  
– Do you want to walk up to either of those two and admit that we can’t get through one stupid heartless? he said.  
Hesitating, Xehanort looked like he had a sensible admonishment for his younger comrade ready on his tongue, though that sense of dignity, the very one that Riku had set out to manipulate at this moment, compelled him to swallow it down.  
– It won’t be harmful to make one attempt on our own, I suppose, he said.  
– That’s the spirit. I knew you had it in you to grow out of your diapers and stop letting your older relatives bottle-feed you, a rasping voice, not belonging to Riku, replied.  
  
To get the most eloquent description of the voice, let us take a gander into the head of Xehanort. The reader doesn’t need to worry about this causing harm to them, as, below thirty years of age, Xehanort has yet to retain enough quantum-physics-complicated schemes of unspeakable evilness in his brain to cause irreversible damage to an outsiders’ psyche.  
At the sound of the voice his spine tensed, an uncomfortable jolt coursing through. In a world of fable he would have equated it to that of a weasel: Drowning in tedium most of the time, as if the world offended him with it’s dullness, until he could find a treasure to steal, a room to claw asunder or a smaller creature to tear apart. An amused lint lent itself to it then, like the very air he exhaled was grinning wildly, like how the voice sounded right now.  
While Riku snapped around like a startled cat, he turned his body like someone expecting to see impending doom and wanting to postpone the moment for as long as he was able, suppressing a sigh when he saw, leaned against the wall with crossed arms, a boy their age, wrapped from the soles of his feet to the supposedly existing spikes of his hair in the overlapping scales of a red darkness-suit. How that thing let in any air was beyond Xehanort. The wonder of darkness-tailored clothing.  
– What are you here for, Vanitas? he asked.  
A chuckle came out of the pitch-black vizor that made Vanitas’s face an enigma.  
– When I noticed Riku storming through the castle in the worst mood darkness has ever conceived, then returned dragging you along, I simply had to come and watch what kind of farce was playing out.  
– I see.  
Looking in the direction of the guardian, Xehanort pretended as if he was full in thought and not focused on the person he spoke to.  
– Since Ansem’s guardian seem to dislike you in particular, you could distract it for us, he said.  
– Did you hear me? I told you that I’m here to watch, only watch, Vanitas purred, or would have if his vocal-chords had been suited to that sort of noise.  
Razors scraping the inside of his throat was a more apt comparison.  
Would it be too much to ask that you would be helpful for once in your existence? Xehanort thought, but did not say.  
Hopefully, if he only observed, Vanitas wouldn’t get up to his legendary shenanigans. Certain incidents still lingered freshly in mind, like the cockfight he had housed between heartless, nobodies and his unversed that utterly trashed the corridors, or that time he found it fit to exchange every door in the castle with ones from a certain power-plant that teleported you to any possible wardrobe in the universe.  
Xehanort’s own bedroom-door had led into an active volcano. He had yet to figure out if Vanitas had known this beforehand, why somebody would put a wardrobe in a volcano in the first place, or why his oldest self hadn’t disintegrated Vanitas yet.

Riku for his part had enjoyed the cockfight, since Xigbar had brought snacks and Luxord initiated an exhilarating round of betting on which batch of creatures madly tore the others apart first, and found nothing strange in the leniency which the old master showed in dispensing Vanitas additional patrol-duty and nothing more in regards to his door-prank. Biased to an excruciating degree, but not strange. - One only needed to watch the old man grin to know who Vanitas had gotten his sense of sadistic humor from.  
He himself had to admit that the inconvenience of walking into the bedroom of a twelve year old girl and having to explain to her that he was not her imaginary boyfriend brought to life upon a wishing-star, was far compensated by the joy of witnessing Larxene open up the bathroom straight into Atlantica and being swept down a flight of stairs by a giant wave; or hearing that Xemnas had entered the chambers of a five-year old genie, had his legs turned into stone and roped into telling bedtime-stories in exchange for the child reversing the spell.  
In response to Vanitas’s declaration he huffed in disappointment, and hoped that he would be able to bribe him with licorice to not tell anyone else about this endeavor.  
– Fine, I’ll help Riku on my own, Xehanort said with a soft sigh.  
– Got any ideas? Riku asked, turning his head expectantly towards him.  
Nodding, Xehanort pointed a slim finger upward.

Xehanort had said that there was a room above Ansem’s; the more accurate description would be a tiny, murky and unused garret.  
Cramped by floor and wooden beams, curtains of dust-thick cobwebs dangling in their faces, they traversed the remains of the castle’s former owners from a hundred or so years ago. Dusty spindles and busts that would belong in the witch Maleficent’s world, oil-paintings with shadow-figure images, an upside-down crib, chests, drawers and books in decomposed piles: more or less what one expected to find in an attic. Their yellow eyes pierced through the darkness better than any cats’, even allowing Vanitas to navigate his way while still wearing the vizor.  
He kept a telling distance behind the other’s, giving off an air of not caring whether this idea worked or not, and that he by-the-way found crawling through an attic on his hands and legs to be dumb and they better make this entertaining soon, this conveyed by him huffing from time to time, thankfully not loud enough to sabotage. Xehanort struggled more in that regard, continuously suffocating.  
Of all the people to suffer dust-allergy, Riku had expected Xehanort the least. It didn’t fit in his mind that any seeker of darkness would be stricken by mundane afflictions like a running nose. Perhaps it had taken Xehanort by surprise as well, seeing as he had willingly entered an attic in the first place. It seemed a wonder that the discomfort did not change Xehanort’s mind about helping out. Riku decided that he better not point this out, ‘less Xehanort realized that was a good point. Conveniently Xehanort’s sneezes were the kind that had a person dip their head forward, releasing the daintiest of noises, something that would come out of a kitten and made other’s amazed at the volume of their own snot-explosions.  
– Why did Ansem have to pick his room this close to the roof? Vanitas hissed as the path narrowed, forcing them to crawl in a line by the intersection where the angled ceiling pressed down to the floor.  
Hushing him, Xehanort knocked on the planks in front of himself. Understanding the message, Riku, being the one in the front, scuffed around to face him. That they where situated above Ansem himself was evident by the nettling feeling trailing down each of their necks.  
Extending a finger-tip dipped in blue light, Xehanort traced a circle across the floor-board. A perfect circle, a precision-that-fine-is-not-natural kind of perfect. As soon as the ring had been completed the wood within the pattern corroded, aging a hundred years or more, not leaving a single splinter behind. Darkness stretched it’s fog-like tendrils up through the hole, spreading a clothing smell, strong as tar.  
– Since it’s your mission you’ll have to be the one who goes down, Xehanort whispered, tone leaving no room for argument, and put his palm together, conjuring between them the glowing blue energy-whip that he liked to use for attacking, let one end of it snag around his right wrist - the coil moving on it’s own like a living snake - looped the other across a beam placed above and held it out to Riku, who shrugged his shoulders, held out his arm to allow the whip to fasten itself around it, scooted his legs over the edge of the hole, and peered down. His enhanced sight was barely penetrating the swirling dusk below.  
– If something down there tries to kill you, yank the line twice and I’ll retract it, Xehanort commented, receiving an irritated mutter in return, Riku having tried to avoid thoughts of the horrors that might be encountered in the private chamber of a heartless.  
Taking a deep breath he let himself drop, pulled to a stop almost immediately then lowered at a moderate pace towards the floor somewhere below him, the whip extending magically. Every mouthful of air trickled like mud into his mouth, weighing in lungs. He knew that the sensation would pass as soon as his body adjusted to the pressure of Ansem’s presence. Harder to get comfortable with was the heat. Both light and darkness could be either cold or hot, and Ansem’s room felt like you could bake a potato in it, likely the reason why he had not bothered to get a bed, or anything else for that matter.  
– Here I thought the nobodies decorated their rooms sparsely, Riku muttered as his shoes touched ground and he could make out his surroundings with more clarity.  
Compared to his own room the hexagon-shaped chamber had twice as much size. For no reason considering that apart from the dark barrier that he saw for himself now, a dusky mirror-surface stretching from floor to roof, all it contained was the figure of a person, floating on his back two feet above the ground.  
Ansem.  
Riku felt a tingle in the back of his neck as he loosened himself from the whip. Finally got to him, and no monsters in sight.

Xehanort relaxed his arm as he felt Riku’s weight disappear, blissfully unaware of the horror that awaited him.  
– Have Riku gotten down? Vanitas asked.  
– He has reached the ground, yes, Xehanort replied, putting emphasis on his whispering to subtly remind the other to do the same.  
– My turn. Move over.  
– Wha…?  
Xehanort would have pointed out that he lacked space to move over, if he hadn’t been interrupted by Vanitas, deciding that one second was too much time to wait for compliance and begun pushing him down in the dust as he climbed across his back, one knee jabbing into his spine, and a scrambling hand banging into his head. Had they not been busy attempting to sneak past a dangerous heartless, Xehanort would have shouted in indignation. Instead he settled with hissing and pushing with his arms to get the other off; smash him against the ceiling if possible. His effort to hamper Vanitas’s progress only contributed to them getting stuck against eachother. A shard of claustrophobic panic wedged itself in his throat when he felt the suit of darkness pressing against him, negative energy rippling across it like the tremors coursing through a large, bloated caterpillar. While used to the smell of darkness, the wafts entering his nose at the moment made him tear up.  
United in the common desire to get free, Xehanort and Vanitas used what each found to be the most sensible strategy: the former exhaling to make his body as small as possible; the latter fighting with every available limb to get away. Had Xehanort, bashed into repeatedly and feeling every twisting movement the worming darkness made, been prone to produce claws out of dark matter like many a heartless, the floor would’ve been shredded. Nothing held Vanitas back from a bit of conjuring of his however, something Xehanort became aware of the moment one of Vanitas's manifested emotions – A Flood: mousy, furious and all twitchy sharpness, landed atop his head and begun mauling at him with knife-like appendages while squealing like a piglet with it’s tail pulled. Pressing his face against the planks was all he could do to protect his eyes.  
The next time Vanitas tries to crawl over me, I’ll murder him, Xehanort promised himself.  
If he didn't manage to kill himself beforehand, which seemed a likely outcome considering that the moment Vanitas plopped free of the wedge he swan-dived straight through the hole.  
The Flood last action in life was screaming for it’s master before getting stabbed many times by one of Xehanort’s daggers.

Riku seeing Vanitas plunge, gasped; not so much worried about him breaking his neck, as of the sound of said neck-break. Before things turned that catastrophic, the falling Vanitas turned around, snagged a hold of the whip, and, going by the strangled scream of pain from above, pulled Xehanort’s shoulder out of it’s socket in the process. With acrobatic skill he twirled his body into the line, breaching his fall and stopping a comfortable dropping distance above ground.  
While Vanitas rocked to a still, he and Riku both turned their heads towards the door, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of the guardian having noticed their presence. Eventually Riku released the breath he had held, relaxing his posture while Vanitas landed on the floor. Shooting daggers with his eyes, Riku pointed at Vanitas with a finger encased in sizzling dark flame, then to the door, then back at Vanitas before squeezing the flame dead in his fist.  
– Come on, if you’re gonna threaten someone do it to Xehanort, he’s the noisiest out of all of us, Vanitas drawled back, pointing his thumb upward.  
With one hand Riku made a telling gesture for Vanitas to shut-up, with the other he waved at him to follow him closer to where Ansem hovered.  
– Have you ever seen Ansem touch the ground? Vanitas commented as they drew near.  
A hrm-ing.  
– Do you think that at some point he forgot how to walk?  
– Quiet.  
While having ignored the concept of changing into night-attire, clothing and hair identical to when he was awake, the sleeping Ansem struck Riku as a different person than the one he had gotten to know and learn to keep his distance from. When not contorted by a frown or malicious grinning, his face looked more peaceful than he’d thought it had the capacity to. No doubt a serenity as deceptive as the one claiming a resting bear. Like a bear, Ansem would rip apart anyone who disturbed his slumber.  
Only now of all times did this thought strike him.  
– What, getting cold feet? Vanitas asked.  
Clenching his teeth and conjuring up in his mind whatever terrible fate awaited him if Ansem did not make it to the meeting, Riku coughed in his fist.  
– Good morning Ansem, the master wants you up for a meeting, he whispered.  
Not a twitch of response.  
– Watch out, if you mumble louder you might actually wake him.  
– Zip it, I don’t want the guardian to notice us.  
– S’not like it has the hearing of a rabbit.  
– Have you seen the size of it’s ears?  
– We won’t get anywhere as long as you hesitate to act rougher with him.  
Grumbling, Riku reached out to nudge Ansem’s shoulder.  
– Come on, time to get… Hey!  
The action pushed Ansem away from him as if he had tried to grab a cork bobbing on a lake’s surface. Attempting to ignore the snickering behind him, Riku chased after the floating man, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.  
– Rise and shine, come on. … Hello … Wake up!  
An unhinged snort made Riku turn to hush on Vanitas and cast several glances at the door.  
– What’s taking so long? This coming from a stage-whispering Xehanort who, one could hear, had his Vanitas-caused irritation replaced by another, impatient kind.  
– It’s like Ansem has taken five successive sleeping-spells to the face, Riku hissed back.  
– Is that going to stop you?  
– How about instructing me how to do this instead of nagging.  
– Bitch-slap him across the cheek, always works in the books, Vanitas said in a mentorly voice.  
– Do you comprehend what Ansem would do to the person who slaps him across the cheek?  
– It can’t be worse than what punishments the old man would hand out. Like, imagine a fishing-hook…  
– ...Thank you, everyone already knows what Xehanort’s punishments are like.  
– ...Or twist his nose. Whatever you think he will take the least offense to.  
– Do it yourself, if you’re so sure it will work.  
– Impassive observer, Vanitas practically sang and held up his arms with a shit-eating grin that wasn’t seen, but could be felt.  
Chewing his lip to get over his screaming survival-instincts telling him to bail, Riku turned to Ansem, held out his hand, then flicked him on the forehead. Both Vanitas and he leaped backwards like you would after throwing a rock at a beehive, assuming that Ansem’s eyes would start open bloodshot or, more terrifyingly, glowing crimson with anger. Like all other times when they expected the worst, the actual result left much to be desired.  
– Is he asleep or dead? Riku exclaimed.  
– You got only one option left now. Come on Riku, slap him.  
– Sometimes I wonder what stinks most about you, the darkness or your soul.  
Vanitas snapped his fingers as if having a stroke of genius.  
– That’s a bright idea, try insulting him.  
Though he narrowed his eyes, Riku had to admit that he liked this suggestion better, if only because it felt immensely tempting. Leaning forward he hissed close to Ansem’s ear.  
– Alright you exhibitionistic heart-spoil, I’m gonna get you awake if I so must strangle you.  
Brow creasing, Ansem muttered groggily, looking more like his usual self.  
– Wow, it is working, Vanitas said, putting a hand on Riku’s shoulder as he bent to peek past his head.  
– You hear me, or were you secretly born deaf? Dumb, ugly brute, who inhibits the bodies of little children in his spare-time, Riku continued and flickered Ansem’s forehead again.  
An arm moved, making both Riku and Vanitas startle back. Ansem whisked like one would to swat away a fly buzzing in his face, muttered something inaudible, likely containing the word darkness; and twisted, as if feeling the need to make the air he slept on more comfortable, before sinking back into a deeper slumber.  
Groaning in disappointment and once more taking a hold of Ansem’s shoulders, Riku shook him hard enough to make his carpet of white hair billow.  
– Wake up now, or I’ll drive my sword through your chest even if Xehanort kills me for it.  
Sniffing the air twice, then Ansem’s hand shot outward, closing around Riku’s wrist. The individual in question blinked. A sleeping person was not allowed to move that suddenly.  
Pain broke him out of being dumbstruck. Nothing sleepy about Ansem’s fingers, pushing into his flesh like pliers. Hissing, Riku tugged, (An ineffectual strategy, since he only ended up tugging Ansem with him) and clutched at the fingers with his free hand, attempting without success to wedge them away.  
– Hard is it? … Vanitas sounded like he had the time of his life. … Alright, stop giving me that morbid expression, I’ll help you.  
Grabbing Riku’s trapped arm above the spot where Ansem would be causing a bruise and placing a boot on the washboard-like surface of his bared abdomen, Vanitas begun tugging. Since his hand squeezed as hard as Ansem’s, Riku opened his mouth to tell him to let go; clasping it shut when he felt his arm slipping free and instead helped by pulling backwards with all of his weight. The skin on Ansem’s nose crinkled, like on a snarling animal, and he mumbled something, “Impudent pest”, or other, before his grip tightened, revealing that he had barely put pressure in it before. Gasping Riku couldn’t tell Vanitas to stop before the other tsked and doubled his effort, bending backwards. Darkness spilled out from Riku’s abused skin, attempting to repel the force that threatened to crush his bones. Curling his lips back, Ansem released a slurry morning-growl, then tugged. Vanitas and Riku, who both had been leaning away from their center of balance, found themselves flung forward like a pair of hapless gloves, the former letting go of Riku, and the latter yelping as he felt his feet leave the ground, Ansem pulling him closer and wrapping his arms around him, then turning his back to Vanitas with a huff.  
Forgetting the mission, that he had people to put up a front in front of and that a terrifying heartless prowled close by, Riku freaked: kicking and bucking as wildly as a rodeo-stallion. All for naught, his arms squeezed stuck against his sides. If he had retained the air-supply, he would have made the sound of somebody experiencing the worst nightmare he hadn’t know he had.  
Meanwhile Vanitas was fighting the hardest battle of his life, and losing.  
– Aw – ha… A … Aww, That’s …. that’s … adorable. - Ha - Sleepy Ansem thought we were competing over you. – Ha ha… h… ha …  
A wheezing hiss coming out of his throat, Riku let darkness stream like a dark cloud out of his body, an explosion building up to be unleashed.  
– Who… Whoa now. - ha - Totally understand you, but covering him … - h - with your darkness would be like trying to make … - Ha - dunno … A too-salty stew edible by putting in more salt? … Ha! and … and … Shadow I can’t – You look like his plushy... – Ha ha ha ha …  
Bent over as he was, Vanitas did not see when the snarl that Riku turned to him dropped off his face. Skin paling, he stared above the other’s head.  
Fit subsiding, Vanitas put a hand to his heart, as if thankful that it hadn’t stopped out of laughter.  
– Thought I would pass out for a moment. This room’s too hot to laugh in. Feels like there’s a furnace at my neck.  
A hoarse squeak from Riku. Humming, Vanitas looked first at Riku, noting the other’s dismaying expression, then further up at the guardian, glaring down at him with eyes of burning fury, opening the mouth spawned from the nightmares of children and growling, the sound reverberating throughout the room.  
– Ever heard of a toothbrush? Vanitas said, wrinkling his nose.  
Even with it’s jaw trapped by bandages the guardian could roar. The air seemed to rattle as it leaned over the insolent pest that had dared to sneak past it. Vanitas leaped to escape, choosing the sanest option of moving towards the guardian. - Really, it was sane, since he could slip through the section where, instead of legs, it’s body narrowed down into an immaterial ghost’s tail. A tremor coursed through the creature’s fellers, possibly from rage of seeing the intruder escaping, or disgust, - What Vanitas did couldn’t be comfortable. Throwing itself around, it lunged for his feet, likely aiming to crush them so that the peaky gnat wouldn’t jump around as much, however Vanitas already yanked Xehanort’s whip.  
– Abort mission! he shouted.

Now, while Xehanort couldn’t see what was happening down below, he had ears and a functioning brain, thus he grasped how essential it was that he retracted his whip the fastest he could. Truly such a regrettable shame that precisely that kind of maneuvers left his aim much to be desired. A smile crinkled at his lips when he heard Vanitas bash into the ceiling a foot away from the hole with a telling: “Ow!” and neck cracking ominously.  
The guardian followed Vanitas with it’s gaze the same way a snake’s head would follow a mouse dangling on a string in front of it. Glancing at Riku, who flailed with as much hope of getting loose as that same mouse from that same snake’s jaws, it gave a short nod in approval of his master-delighting presence, then floated upward, fists crackling with dark energy and sights set on Vanitas, who ignored his possible neck-fracture and scrambled through the hole as nimbly as a squirrel. He risked one glance over his shoulder, shouted “Crap!” and attempted to climb across Xehanort again.  
– No you don’t, the bristling Xehanort shouted and kicked a boot into Vanitas’s chest, sending him careening into the guardian’s field of fire.  
The blows broke through the ceiling, brushing past the side of his helmet and throwing him yelping into a wooden beam. Negative-energy streamed off him in waves while the assault continued, the guardian methodically tearing the ceiling apart.  
Riku looked up at the demolishing, coughing when every ear-splitting crack brought a mound of sawdust and splinters tumbling down. He turned to Ansem.  
– How are you not waking up from this?  
The Seeker of Darkness purred, literally and disturbingly from his chest, nuzzling contently into his hair.  
– Creep, Riku hissed.  
A garbling animal-sound snatched Riku’s attention and caused the guardian to freeze with it’s knuckle raised, a noise that the worlds’ most humongous frog would make after swallowing a tuba. It could not have come from either Vanitas or Xehanort, and he would shave his hair off if that was how the guardian’s battle-cries sounded like. All he could tell for sure was that it was coming from above, and that a lot of cracks were showing up on the ceiling.  
With a snap, a crack and a pair of boy-shrieks the ceiling collapsed. For a moment Riku saw both Ansem and his own end approaching in the form of paintings, chests and a giant, blaring turtletoad-unversed falling towards them. He did not consider the guardian, it’s speed like that of a crocodile or an elephant: lumbering creatures that you never expected to be lightning-quick until they moved. Intercepting the crash, the guardian scooped Ansem up into it’s arms and flew out of reach before the turtletoad slammed into the floor like a meteor, turning the black room white with dust.  
Sneezing and growling Ansem squirmed his way out of the guardian’s enviously relenting grip, a hand unwrapping and reaching up to scrub at his face. Riku saw his chance, and tugged one arm free, used it to push Ansem’s remaining arm upward with all of his strength and what darkness he could eject from his palm, and slid his body down through the hole, heart leaping when he felt shoulders plop free. All the way into his throat when Ansem reached out and snagged his collar before his feet touched the ground, pulling him kicking and screaming into a new embrace. His snores sounded decidedly smug.  
– You have climbed to the top of my co-workers-that-I-despise-the-most list, Riku, pinned chest to chest with the heartless, said, while jabbing his boots as hard as he could into Ansem’s shins, though finding the position poor for causing damage that stung.  
Ansem mumbled in response, to which Riku gawked.  
– I don’t even wanna think that you just called me “Sweet thing”, so let’s decide that what you actually said was “Submit”.  
Ansem hummed in what sounded like agreement.  
A muffled laughter rose from the pile of debris, where the dust-cloud was settling.  
– There’s no oxygen down here, Vanitas shouted from beneath the turtletoad laying on the top of the scrap-mountain, honking dazedly; and continued to holler as if having told the punch-line to the most self-amusing joke in the world. With their host-world being a parched graveyard, it very well could be.  
Shouldn’t you stop laughing if that’s the case? Riku pondered asking, though discarded the notion from thought when he saw the guardian expanding with threat as it zoned in on the voice. Had it been a guardian dog it would have it’s fur standing up and it’s fangs bared.  
– Anyway, stop resting your butt atop of me, you dumb slug, Vanitas shouted.  
Offense flashed over the permanently sour face of the turtletoad, non a less it lumbered log-like legs beneath itself, hefted it’s heavy frame upwards…  
A bolt of darkness shot up from beneath what once had been crates and book-cases, and pierced into the chest of the turtletoad Throwing it’s head up, swinging it from side to side, the turtletoad mellowed a dying elegy before combusting into the mist that had spawned it, trickling back inside of Vanitas as he poked his head out of the trash like a jack-in-the-box.  
– I will say this boys. Even if you don’t manage to wake Ansem, you have managed to make this an entertaining day for me.  
He turned his head around, checking to see if the boys he was addressing had perished beneath the rubble, and was met with the glaring visage of the guardian, static yet communicative expression promising more pain than what a tenfold keyblade-wars could dish out.  
Thoughtfully humming like sage who contemplated the utterance of searing hate, then pointing at the guardian as if to declare that he had reached enlightenment:  
– You're itching for a fight, right?  
Black vapor coated the guardians body as it neared, consolidating into purple-tinged lanterns in it’s hands.  
– Fine, you’ll be the cherry on top of today, Vanitas raspingly screamed.  
Fist hit vizor with a thunderclap loud enough to make Ansem’s eyelids flutter, the guardian punching Vanitas back-first into the dark barrier that made the sound of a concrete-wall being hit by a cannon, implicating it had the hardness of one. With the guardian’s follow-up blow it cracked and crumbled like a house of cards. The already mortally wounded door was flung off it’s hinges, as Vanitas caught the guardian’s fist in the air and launched it into it’s frame with a dark explosion, whooping and pursuing it in a flicker of speed.  
Shadow help us all, Riku thought when he heard the explosions continue outside, imagining the scowling visage of the old master Xehanort taking in the sight the demolished castle, then turning to him:  
– You understand the consequences of this, I hope.  
Riku opened his mouth and called out to the one person who would make this day the crowning achievement of miserable if he had been crushed.  
– Xehanort, are you okay?  
– …ly when Vanitas lies a mashed corpse by my feet, will I be okay, a growing louder voice replied, as it’s owner dug himself out from under a toppled-over chest filled with heavy-looking lace-dresses. … I’ll live, he concluded with less snark, subsequently falling victim to a bout of vicious sneezes.  
In Xehanort-terms, vicious translated into the hisses of a grown cat.  
– Pardon, he said thickly while scrubbing off his face with an unfortunate sleeve, peered towards where Riku laid trapped and tilted his head.  
– How did you get into that position?  
– Ansem’s the one who decided to use me as his snuggle-rug, Riku, feeling his face heat, replied.  
The snivelling youngster vanished, only to appear in front of Riku and Ansem, cupping a hand around his own jaw, intently analyzing the sight.  
– Your scent would be the cause, he said in a theorizing tone of voice, though all momentum was ruined by the nasal tone caused by his clogged nose. ... Since it’s identical to the original Riku’s, it supposedly makes Ansem … Nostalgic.  
The glare igniting in Riku’s eyes could burn through the realm of darkness and a good portion of the in-between.  
– I’m the original. He’s the plastic fake made in the real one’s image, he snarled, causing Xehanort to flinch, due to his misstep if anything.  
– Sorry, that was clumsily phrased, he said, extending a hand dipped in glowing blue time-magic and turning it counter-clockwi…  
...iwkcolc-retnuoc ti gninrut dna cigam-emit eulb gniwolg ni deppid dnah a gnidnetxe ,dias eh ,desarhp ylismulc saw taht ,yrroS –  
.gnihtyna fi enod d’eh petssim eht morf ,hcnilf ot tronaheX gnisuac ,delrans eh ,egami s’eno laer eht ni edam ekaf citsalp eht s’eH .lanigiro eht m’I –  
.neewteb-ni eht fo noitrop doog a dna ssenkrad fo mlaer eht hguorht nrub dluoc ecaf s’ukiR ni gnitingi eralg ehT  
.ciglatsoN … mesnA sekam yldesoppus ti ,s’ukiR lanigiro eht ot lacitnedi s’ti ecniS .eciov fo enot gnisiroeht a ni dias eh ,esuac het eb dluow tnecs ruoY –…  
… – Your scent would be the cause, he said in a theorizing tone of voice, putting effort into not speaking in a nasal tone because of his clogged nose. ... You are Riku after all, Ansem’s original vessel.  
– Which explains why he acts clingy, Riku huffed, jerking to relieve a hand that was wedged between Ansem’s rock-hard chest and his own and giving up with a sound of anguish, darkness pouring off his shoulders.  
– Don’t unleash that, Xehanort said, flicking him atop of his head. … You’ll end up destroying the room.  
– I’m at the point of not caring about that anymore.  
– Yes, yes, I will free you. Stay calm.  
Xehanort bent forward and tugged at the arms cradling Riku. Sweeping his tongue across his teeth when they did not budge, he dug his heels down into the ground and leaned back in exertion.  
– Good gods, he said as he eventually gave up, giving Riku a look of sympathy.  
– Yeah, Ansem’s hugging is less comfortable than it looks, Riku wheezed, then made his best attempt at recoiling when the heartless decided to start snuggling and purring again, an action which had Xehanort light up.  
– Interesting, the reports only mentioned shadow-heartless as being able to produce purrs, he said, placing a palm on the chest springing the sound. ... I assumed that he had the internal structure of a normal person. Where is this coming from?  
– As much as I hate to break you out of your nerdy stupor …, Riku coughed.  
– Watch your tongue, or I won't help you. Now ...  
Wiping his nose once more, Xehanort swept his red-swollen eyes across the room. Riku could practically hear the gigajoule-gears in his brain turning. Leaning down he grabbed hold of a splintered plank, snorting as he pulled it out of the dust. Putting a foot on the same spot on Ansem’s abdomen that Vanitas had used, this being too good a foothold to ignore, he pressed the floating man towards the floor. An act requiring his full concentration since Ansem was pushed down with as much unwillingness as a helium-filled balloon. Placing the shrapnel in the crux of Ansem’s elbow he wiggled it back and forth in attempt to wrestle it further in between. The sensation of splintered wood grating against skin made Riku clench his teeth, then Ansem, grumbling an annoyed “You dare ...”, squeezed harder, apparently intending to press his ribs until they displayed a crow’s-nest.  
Proving himself to be more attentive than Vanitas, Xehanort removed the lever when he saw Riku’s face contort in suffering.  
– Don’t try to force him to release me, Riku snarled, … Wake him up.  
– How do you expect me to accomplish that when a collapsing ceiling would not do the trick? Xehanort replied, voice warning Riku to take his help for granted, because “I’m-covered-in-snot,-have-a-burgining-headache-and-is-doing-this-out-of-the-goodness-of-my-heart,-which-is-not-a-resource-I-have-an-abundance-of”.  
– The plank of wood.  
– The plank of wood what?  
– Smack him in the face with it.  
– Riku, I’m not smacking Ansem with a plank of wood. He would be furious with me.  
– I think we have passed that point of no return.  
Looking up at the fracturing ceiling, Xehanort hummed in agreement.  
– It is strange, he said after a pause.  
– What?  
– Heartless or not, being this heavy a sleeper seems ridiculous.  
– Didn’t you tell me he would retain…  
– Not to this extent. If replicas are as good as human bodies, this can’t be considered normal.  
– Obviously he hasn’t realized that himself. This is not the right time to…  
– Could that be the reason? After spending who-knows-how-long in a non-physical state, would he have forgotten things obvious to us, like what a normal sleeping-cycle looks like, or that he must eat food and clean off dirt?  
– Nice of you to imply that he never cleans himself when I’m pinned against his armpit.  
– What if he’s knocked out because of malnourishment?  
– This is not the grip of a man who’s suffering from malnourishment.  
– Growing up on those plentiful islets I doubt you would know. Have you ever seen Ansem eat?  
– Other than the still-beating hearts he rips from his victims?  
– Things with actual nourishment.  
– I… Ugh! … seen him glare at the fruit-bowl in the dining hall. … Would you…  
– He has been eating then?  
– Could you pick another time to...  
A foreboding washed over the two, as effective a conversation-stopper as a grenade going off, the bell signaling that a powerful presence was returning to it’s layer. Xehanort eyes widened.  
He wasn’t standing in front of Riku any more.  
– Wait, you gotta help me! Riku howled, then turned to give the stink-eye to the guardian which floated into view through the enlarged entrance, squeezing in one hand the leg of Vanitas who dangled limply like a flayed skin. A fist-sized portion of the black vizor had been pushed inward, white cracks coursing outward in a spider-web pattern and glass-dusts sprinkling as the guardian moved. One particularly large and jagged piece of shrapnel jutted outward around Vanitas’s forehead, a telling runnel of blood trailing down it.  
Riku found himself frozen stiff at what he saw. Not that he’d never seen Vanitas walk off pitch-black bruises and limping after scuffles with either members of the organization who did not have the patience to put up with him (See Larxene), or the monsters he hunted down whenever he decided to fight off boredom by killing things. Fights happened, and every non-benched member of the seekers of darkness qualified to the title by being able to emerge from such with scratches to answer for the opponents’ gaping gut-wounds. Perhaps that was why it had never occurred to him that Vanitas could come out of the fight seriously hurt, – Dead? He felt like someone had informed him that the sun in this world did not stick properly to the sky and would with a nudge fall down and incinerate the planet. When Vanitas turned his head, unmistakable relief bloomed in his chest.  
– You haven’t gotten loose yet? Pathetic, Vanitas rasped.  
– Don’t call me pathetic when you got pinched by his pet, he shoot back out of principle.  
– Cause I let him. The old-man would make me a bath of sulphuric acid if I caused too much damage. When I want to call it quits I’ll play possum for this guy and let him tug me along until he tires and drops me off in a ditch. Usually the kitchen. Maybe he thinks I’m too skinny. This heartless is a softy.  
Vanitas patted the guardian comradely on what could be vaguely defined as it’s hip, evoking a growl from the creature which promptly had him go slack once more.  
– Are you implying that as long as you keep still it won’t attack? came Xehanort’s voice from above, his head peeking out from the rafters where he lay splayed across two endeavoring balks, hair hanging down like the end of a floor-mop.  
– Cross my heart and hope to die.  
– Then, why did you have me pull you up to the ceiling in the first place?  
– Before we get into that riveting discussion … Vanitas replied, patting his leggings. … Where did I put it?  
His hand slipped in between the scales revealing a hidden opening among them.  
– You have pockets on your darkness suit? Riku exclaimed.  
– You don’t?  
Aha-ing, Vanitas pulled out a jet-black and flat square. Xehanort craned his head  
– What is that?  
– This baby here is called a gummiphone.  
– Gummi…  
– If you wanna know what it does you gotta come down. It’s a pain to explain as long as you’re hanging around the ceiling.  
Hesitation.  
– You assure that the guardian won’t assault me if I don’t move.  
– Do you want me to fetch your older relatives as well, to hold your hand when you step close to the big scary heartless?  
– Jeers like that doesn’t paint your intelligence in a positive light, Xehanort scoffed, vanished and reappeared on the ground, where he pressed close to the wall without twitching a finger.  
The guardian twisted it’s head and rumbled towards Xehanort, who tensed and sent an accusing glare Vanitas's way.  
– You got to work more on the corpse-act, the accused stage-whispered, gesturing towards the ground, then resumed fumbling with the gummiphone.  
Sucking in his breath, Xehanort eyed the dusty floor then the guardian. Giving a weary sigh, he unceremoniously dropped, kitten-sneezed and moaned in suffering.  
The guardian turned back to watch Ansem. Riku could have sworn he saw it’s shoulders hunched with contained laughter.  
– Looking at my face in a mirror after this won’t be fun, Xehanort sniveled.  
– No joke, Vanitas said. ... That mug there needs to me immortalized.  
Before Xehanort could say “What?”, Vanitas aimed the gummiphone and a flash erupted that caused the other to gasp a dust-rat into his windpipe. While a hissing and hacking Xehanort clutched his throat, Vanitas turned the gummiphone around so that the bedraggled visage eternalized in picture-format would be fully visible to the model.  
– Cool right? Vanitas said. The Sora-hero and his goof-troop was taking pictures with this thing in Monstropolis. All the guardians of light have them. It can do other things as well, like store information or communicate long-way distances. You won’t believe the effort it took to figure out where they produced these and snag one.  
– You couldn’t find a better use of you’re time, which, I don’t need to remind you, is limited for all of us, Xehanort croaked, venom bleeding through the cracks of his voice.  
– Stop nagging, you ain’t my dad … Vanitas turned his head away dismissively. … Atleast not yet.  
Xehanort shut his mouth, making the face of a person who remembered something uncomfortable, along the lines of a corpse he stuffed inside a shed the week before. Riku choose the moment to intervene.  
– My bones are being crushed to dust over here.  
– I’ve already tried to help you with that, Xehanort said, sending him a chilling glare out of ruined eyes.  
– Don’t be harsh, Vanitas interjected. … I’m sure we can figure out some way to rescue Riku. After I do this.  
A flash from the gummiphone, this time aimed at Riku, who cried out and shut his eyes.  
– You are not as picture-friendly as Xehanort, Vanitas grumbled as he studied the photo, then shrugged. … Take what you can get, as they say. Did you know that the forces of light have a place onto here where they can display pictures to eachother.  
Unfazed by the cawing of fury coming from Riku, Vanitas started to poke at the gummiphone.  
– I can even write funny sentences beneath the photo. Listen. /Ansem — The Seeker of Darkness, /Riku — The Original Dammit!, /Hugfest, /Aww—TheyDoCareAboutEachother, /TellOtherRikuToLike ...  
– Vanitas! Riku managed to roar despite the, as mentioned, pulverizing of his bones.  
The most evil chuckle in existence answered him.  
– If you think I’m mean wait until I show this to Xigbar.  
Had Riku admitted to feeling relief when it turned out that the guardian hadn’t killed Vanitas? Not at all, he wished it had crushed his body into splinters. He wished that he could pick up that plank of wood and do the crushing himself. If that deranged dark-brain with misplaced touch-starvation did not stop hugging him he would go mad.  
– That’s it. You are letting me go now, he cried out; kicking, squirming and headbutting: everything that he had tried up to this point, at once.  
Ansem turned his head away as if the screaming was all that disturbed him, exposing his brown neck.  
A memory flashed through Riku’s mind, bizarrely bright like every one of his childhood recollections: One of many play-fights he had had with Sora when they were too small to patiently swing around wooden-swords for more than a few minutes, the scuffles turning into wrestling sooner or later; a scolding he had received from Sora’s father when his son ran to him, bawling and showing off bleeding tooth-marks on his arm; and how unimpressive his whining excuses had sounded, even though he still found them justifying.  
– … But Sora was winning.  
Feeling feral enough that this idea didn’t repulse him as it should, - Only a part of his mind pondering about how very wrong this might look to the viewership, while the rest lodged onto the chance presented with bared fangs, - and remembering how heartless could harness darkness to sharpen teeth into knives, he plunged his, buzzing with that hungry energy, in the junction between shoulder and neck.  
– Whoa! went Vanitas’s joyous reaction, another flash off light going off, while Xehanort made a sound as if cringing in disgust.  
The muscles that his teeth fought to pierce tensed, and a hiss off pain escaped Ansem that would have lightened Riku’s mood if only Vanitas had not been there.  
– /Vampirism, /ThatEscelatedQuickly, /BitingKink — Whoops, a lot of amazing suggestions popped up when I put that in.  
While Vanitas shouted, the guardian was tensing, yellow eyes coming aflame.  
The darkness working in his mouth went into a frenzy in response to both hurrying urgency and the temper that he felt himself losing grip on all the more. Ignoring the urge to spit as the taste of blood stung his throat, he started chewing while imagining a piece of pork, edging teeth progressively deeper in his campaign to convince Ansem that cradling Riku was a bad idea.  
Clearly on some subconscious level agreeing, Ansem growled a mushy: “Shut your mouth you …”, bent his neck until his hair brushed across the floor, forcing Riku to let go; and, just as the three onlookers understood what was about to happen, - Riku and Xehanort’s faces paling and Vanitas getting started a cry of surprised excitement, - snapped his head upward and bashed Riku’s forehead and his own together with a force that rattled a new layer of sawdust down from the rafters. The victim wasn’t given the time to scream. Riku’s head lolled backwards, eyes staring emptily into the void, a bleeding bruise like a stamp-mark flush on his forehead.  
– Well … Vanitas said after a moment of silence. … It was only a matter of time before we started killing eachother. ... He sighed the way you did when you found the neighbors letters in your mailbox. … Looks like you have your work cut out for you, Norty.  
– Oh, I hope not, Xehanort drawled while lowering his chin to the ground, robbed of all vitality.  
In a genie-creatures motionless motion, the guardian covered the distance between Ansem and itself, studying it’s once more peacefully resting master, seeming to make sure all was well, then it reached down and worked a pair of sausage-large fingers down Riku’s collar, his performance as a suitable snuggling-toy having likely been judged as beneath contempt, and pulled his body out of Ansem’s grasp, Ansem relinquishing complacently with only a sigh in response.  
– Don’t tell me it was that simple to get him loose, Vanitas exclaimed, poking at Riku the way you would a stranded fish to see if it was dead. What were you guys doing while I distracted the guardian, discussing the weather?  
– We were…  
A sneeze that snuck up on him like a knife in the dark: one classic, human-sized explosion of snot, killed Xehanort’s mood for conversation. As the guardian turned on it’s non-existent heel and carried the two boys in it’s grip out of the chamber, he watched and teleported once the creature had dropped it’s burden outside the front-door like a lazy man would dump his trash.  
– Do you have to break tradition now? Vanitas complained, catching himself on his hands and looking back through the gap between his arms at the guardian. ... I could kill for a burger.  
– A bath should be higher up on your priorities, Xehanort commented as he flickered into existence, studying Vanitas through critically narrowed eyes. … That or the infirmary.  
Blinking in the light, that outside of the bedchamber was blinding, he brushed off his nose, held the sleeve back to stare hatefully at the result of the fabrics continued use as a towel, then turned that look towards the guardian which had stationed itself at it’s old spot outside of the entrance and resumed tolerating their presence with a watchful stare.  
– Trying to do this on our own ended disastrously, he said while expending the last trace of goodness within his heart to walk over to Riku, - left on the ground like a sack of potatoes, - prop him up against the wall and check his pulse, confirming that he would not have to pull another candidate for the seeker-position out of the time-stream’s hypothetical ass. … I’m fetching Xemnas. Ansem and he seem to have grown close, perhaps he has some knowledge of how to handle this. Before then however …  
– Hey! Vanitas cried out as a materializing whip snagged the gummiphone out of his grip and into Xehanort’s.  
– A device like this should be used as a tool for spying on the forces of light’s activities, not as your personal plaything.  
– Aw come on, you’re acting no fun, Vanitas said, tip-toeing in his attempt to take the phone back.  
Infuriating in his casual tallness, Xehanort held it out of reach, cocking two questioning eyebrows.  
– Do you want me to tell your dad about you hoarding this item for yourself?  
Pausing as he mulled over the question.  
– Don’t care, Vanitas decided and put his hand against Xehanort’s chest as he begun jumping in order to reach.  
Sneering, Xehanort placed a hand onto the jagged splinter protruding from Vanitas’s skull and twisted it.  
Screaming, Vanitas stumbled back, pressing his hands over the hole in the helmet where the glass had been pulled like a plug.  
– You sick …  
– My excuses, I found it jarring to look at.  
Whatever Vanitas response was to that, a nerve-rattling chiming of bells drowned it out. Intangible astral-projections materialized over each of the seekers’ heads: a pair of rocking bells, an useful enchantment for informing the organization-members when it was time to gather, working no matter which world they were frolicking in. The chiming continued for a short duration, then the bells vanished.  
– Ooohhh … crawled out of Vanitas’s mouth, sound spelling the disaster he could see forthcoming.  
– Time can’t have rushed by this quickly, Xehanort exclaimed, looking out the window at the clocktower and confirming that it had.  
The treachery.  
– Now what? Vanitas pondered aloud. There’s nothing rea…  
Cut off, this time by a sound more universally dreadful than the chiming, like the final wheezing gasp of a lung-sick person on her death-bed. The two boys turned to see the last faint outlines of the guardian before it dissipated entirely into wisps of shadow.  
They stared. That until Ansem strode out of the bed-chamber, after which they stared harder.  
The heartless yawned like a large cat, whole palate on display, massaging his shoulder and jerking his head to the side with a cracking-sound, then he turned to see them, halting.  
They stared at eachother.  
– What are you here for? Ansem growled; having, afterall, bad experiences with kids showing up on his doorstep.  
– We were tasked to make sure you didn’t sleep past the meeting …  
Xehanort trailed off, the staring he was occupying himself with making it hard to formulate the rivers of things he could say past that.  
Ansem’s gaze trailed over the swollen Xehanort, half-crushed Vanitas and unconscious Riku, turned to examine the hole where the door had once stood, as if only now bothering to take note of it, then looked at them again with a raised eyebrow.  
– Tell the master that such assistance won’t be needed, he said, the hint of an amused smile edging his words. … Since he expressed dissatisfaction with that incident, I decided to always wake at the sound of the bells hereafter.  
– Truly? Xehanort said, flung out of his ogling state. … Is it common for heartless to condition themselves to stimuli that effortlessly?  
Not deigning himself to answer, Ansem, a hand trailing up to massage his shoulder again and amusement dropping out of his face in favor of the usual, neutral frown, stepped forward, a corridor of darkness opening in his path. A small, spurned sound sighted it’s way out Xehanort as the pathway closed.  
– Mission successful, I guess, Vanitas said.  
– My oldest self will still want a word with us about the collateral damage you have caused, Xehanort responded, exasperatedly combing through his hair with his fingers.  
– Let’s not fuzz over details and make sure we don’t drive the old man crazy by being tardy ourselves, Vanitas said, slapping a hand across Xehanort’s back the way that the taller boy hated.  
– We also got to have a discussion about the gummiphone, he continued. ... I could get you one of your own, if you’d give it back.  
– Fine, I will consider, Xehanort said, using his best lying-voice. … Only after the mee…  
– … What’s wrong?  
How are we going to wake him up? Xehanort said.  
Vanitas followed his gaze over to the slumped-over Riku.  
– … Crap.


End file.
